


Hysteria

by LokiBitch07



Category: The Avengers (2012), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Community: norsekink, Female Ejaculation, Forced Orgasm, Homophobia, Humiliation, Intersex Loki, Mental Health Issues, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Non-con masturbation, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-14
Updated: 2012-10-27
Packaged: 2017-11-16 07:10:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/536842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LokiBitch07/pseuds/LokiBitch07
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After his invasion of Earth Odin has a special punsihment in store for his eldest son: public forced masturbation.<br/>In his Frost Giant Form.<br/>Female Ejaculation to cure what may be Hysteria to have taken over Loki's mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hysteria

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fill for the awsome prompt on norsekink here: http://norsekink.livejournal.com/9985.html?thread=21521665#t21521665
> 
> WARNINGS:  
> Ok, there are several triggers like Non-con, drugs, ludicrous ideas about mental illness, angst, torture, public humiliation, and staying true to myself it shall all be explicit.  
> There are slight homophobe suggestions in this text, please note that I incorporated them for the sake of the story, not to express my personal opinion. 
> 
> Please also note that this piece has not been betad…
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> x

Loki had done it again.  
He had caused mischief, let it get out of hand, and when he arrived shackled and muzzled in Asgard, many wondered how Odin would fare with his youngest son this time.

The wisest men and women of Asgard met in the great hall, discussing, suggesting and eventually fighting how the fallen prince of Asgard - Odinson after all - was to be treated. 

The Allfather had realized that he may have made some…mistakes when dealing with his adopted foundling son, and he had called for the meeting of the eldest, enclosing to them the truth about Loki’s heritage and listening to the rambling, growing more and more tired and weary on what he conversations suggested.  
On the third day of the talks and hearings, a quiet elder midwife stands and addresses Odin directly.

 

“Allfather,I have given this situation much thought, and I may have a rather …unconventional suggestion.”

Odin leans back; he had decided that this would be the last day he would listen to the complicated, sometimes outrageous ideas of his court. He may listen to one or two more suggestions, but that was it. 

The lady dressed in the white healers outfit, old but with a strong, authoritative aura around her, spoke: “Allfather, we all know that Loki has been raised as your son along Thor.  
But it is common knowledge that Jötunn’s are not of one but two sexes, and clearly the prince has suppressed his female side and sexuality living in Asgard.  
I am suggesting that his escapades may result from female hysteria that came on from denying part of his personality for so long, and I do believe that he does show some, if not all, of the symptoms that are linked to this mental illness.”

Odin’ eyes narrow.  
Female Hysteria?  
Mental Illness?  
Ludicrous. 

Before Odin can dismiss her with the wave of a hand, the midwife pulls out an old, dog-eared book, opening at a page marked with a piece of paper.

She traces her finger over the brown, dusty-smelling parchment and reads out loud:  
“Female Hysteria is found in up to a quarter of all women of different origins, and is linked to pent-up fluids of the female body, wandering of the womb or suppression of the female self.  
Hysteria is known to express itself in nervousness, sexual desire, insomnia, heaviness in abdomen, irritability, loss of appetite for food or sex, and _a tendency to cause trouble_ ".  
She pauses a moment to let the last symptom sink in. She closes the book carefully and scans the room, her eyes finally focusing on Odin. 

“There are many other symptoms, but these seemed to be the most…noteworthy.  
Allfather, you know better than most of us whether or how strong these manifestations of mental disorder were visible in Loki, but I am sure we all can say that we know of the prince’s sometimes willful tricks. To me it seems that they may have increased in magnitude over the millennia, but of course the Allfather is best to judge this.” 

The healer lays her hand on the book, hands wandering over the tan leather of the binding. 

“There is a cure however, even though hysteria is a chronic disease, it can be managed and treated by what is called hysterical paroxysm.  
If it pleases you, Odin, we could try to control your son’s behavior. If the treatment works, we know that Loki has been in the grasps of a mental illness, and not all the blame should be addressed to him.  
Of course, if the treatment shows no visible effect you may want to look at punishment once more.”

The midwife nods and sits, indicating that she has finished. 

Odin had listened to the healer, expecting to reject just another ludicrous idea, but he must admit that the facts are well presented. He knows nearly nothing about Jötunn or female anatomy and their ailments, but he will not face Frigga with the knowledge that he has not tried everything to save or even heal Loki from his madness.  
If he really was sick, of course.  
Loki was, after all, called the trickster. 

Odin is tired and briefly thinks about discussing the suggested treatment with his wife, but he already knows what her answer would be. She has always had a special place in her heart for her dark son, and she would want Odin to do anything in his power to help him.

He lets out a deep sigh and addresses the white lady.  
“What would the treatment of this…mental illness entail, healer?”

The midwife rises once more, her cheeks slightly flushed.  
“Allfather…it is, well….” The woman is clearly flustered, but Odin waves his hand impatiently. 

“Tell me healer, is it an operation? Drugs? Magic? Potions? What is it?”

The midwife’s eyes flick to the other healers by her side. “For treatment a healer will meet the …person suffering from hysteria and give them a pelvic massage to the point of hysterical paroxysm”.

The Allfather grunts , finger starts to drum a fast rhythm on the table, showing his impatience.  
“What does this mean woman? Tell me in simple words, I am not of the healing profession.” 

The healer’s checks burn even brighter red, but she continues, her gaze lowered as she answers: “Masturbation Allfather. His female self has to be masturbated and brought to orgasm. To release the fluids that must have built up in his womb since he was a child, poising him.”

Odin leans back, shocked by the suggestion.  
“You…want to masturbate Loki?” He asks, appalled. 

“Yes Allfather. His female organs that are connected to his womb. To help him recover from his current…state.”  
The healer once again opens her book. “As his condition has been untreated for such a long time, there is a high probability that one session will not be sufficient. He needs to release all the toxic build-up and wash out any remains, and he will need to do this on a regular basis in the future.  
Also, we would need access to his Jötunn form, as he does not present his female heritage in his Asgard self.”

Even though Odin had been discussing horrible punishment for Loki from death to different types of Asgardian torture, this suggestion makes him uneasy.

He leans back, massaging his temples, thinking the proposition over. His first reaction was to turn down this outlandish… idea, when a memory hits him. 

Loki reading in the library showing no interest sparring outside with his brother.  
Loki’s quick tongue that was able to wound better with words than many men ever could with a sword.  
The magick, a womanly way to fight….had been part of Loki for a long time…  
The rumors of Loki’s escapades, taking men to his bed, letting them use him as a maiden… Clearly no real man would show this kind of perversion unless mentally unstable. 

 

Not a punishment by all means, but a treatment.  
A cure for a mental disorder.  
Loki’s anger, resentment and foolish tricks, all explained by confusion of his mind. 

The Allfather stands, his staff hitting the floor, the low sound echoing through the throne room.

“It shall be so. Loki shall be treated for his hysteria using the suggested methods from our healing staff – one year shall be the time for the treatment after which Loki’s state shall be analyzed anew.  
If there is no change to his personality, we shall meet again to discuss his punishment for his crimes in Midgard.”

Odin has spoken.  
And so it shall be.


	2. Chapter 2

The next couple of weeks the healing rooms sees a flurry of healers and midwifes, searching through old books and scrolls, discussing Jötunn anatomy and how to perform a hysterical paroxysm on someone that has suppressed a large part of their sexuality for so long.   
Treatment plans are proposed and rejected, and messengers are sent all over Asgard and the other realms to collect as much knowledge as there is available on this subject. 

The Asgardian healing staff is relishing the idea of executing a new treatment, and the word is sent out to other healers and midwifes, asking for recommendations and feedback, and many make the long way to the heart of Asgard to witness an event that has not been publicly shown before. 

Hysteria, though not unheard of among Asgardian women, never has been seen as a trait in need to be cured, as it comes close to the male equivalent of Berserkers, who are widely respected.   
It is actually commonly thought that Sif herself has hysteric tendencies, but no one would dare say it to her face, let alone recommend a cure. 

It was a new and novel idea in a traditional society, and though many old healers grumbled behind their beards, it was going to be an interesting year. 

 

Finally, the time had come. 

 

 

Loki had spent his long days in a cell in the bowels of Asgard, leaning back against the cold wall behind him, waiting patiently to see the Allfather to find out about his punishment.   
With the delay he knew that whatever decision was made, it had not been an easy one.

Banishment was improbable, as Loki knew that Odin could not send him away without angering the other realms, who by now must have heard about his attacks on Jötunheimr as well as Midgard.   
And Loki knew that in the end, it was always about politics and keeping the discussion with other leaders on a friendly level, unless otherwise needed by the Allfather. 

The other options he could come up with were infinitive imprisonment, torture or death. 

Loki was not too worried about death; though he wished he had died in battle to secure his place in Valhalla or Fólkvangr, it would be almost welcome.   
He had tried hard to accomplish something, _anything_ , in his life, and had failed time and time again.  
Loki was tired of trying.   
He would welcome death with open arms. 

Torture was such a petty form of punishment that he did not think that Odin would consider it. He may order some for the satisfaction of the other realms, but it was not the Allfather’s taste to torture just to inflict pain.   
In pain there was no lesson to be learned, just minds to be broken.   
And Loki’s mind was broken already. 

Infinite imprisonment would be the worst for Loki. He enjoyed his freedom, enjoyed being like the wind, too slippery for anyone to hold down and keep in place.   
Having someone take this from him would be ….would be… it would break him.   
Therefore he fears that this is exactly what will be bestowed on him. 

So he waits. 

 

 

When the guards come to pick him up, Loki is almost relieved, as he despised sitting alone in the darkness with nothing to do, all alone with his thoughts and memories. 

He is walked out the dark room, sandwiched between two enormous guards that would have towered over Thor, holding the chained prisoner between them tightly as if worried he could fight them down and run.  
Loki snickers at the thought. 

The trickster is brought to a large, white-tiled theatre-like space close to the healing rooms.   
It seems to be a new room as Loki does not recognize it, almost in the shape of a theatre, well-lit with a balcony running above their heads to allow a good view of the proceedings below.  
Was he going to have to fight?

The dark god notes that the room on the main floor holds about 40 elders, wisemen and midwifes that are clad in the white clothes of their profession, all staring at the trickster as he enters the room between the two guards.  
 _Healers?  
Wisemen?  
Midwifes? _

Are they going to breed him?  
The thought flashes through his mind, steps faltering for a second as memories of Svaðilfari flash through his mind, panic hitting him in the stomach.  
But he continues, hoping that such a ludicrous idea would never … never….

Trying to suppress these thoughts rushing through his head his gaze wanders up, realizing that the second floor above them is filled with a mass of people, royalty and commoners alike, craning their neck to get a look at the bound trickster.

Whatever his sentence was to be, it had sure pulled a crowd. 

He is glad when he does not see Thor or his mother among them, though his eyes lock into the ones of Sif for a brief moment, her face like a mask as she stares down on him.   
He is sure where Sif is, the Warrior 3 are not far off. 

Loki straightens himself, lowers his eyes to the room, as the guards stop next to him.   
They are standing in front of a short metal table Loki had not noted before, located in the middle of the room (theatre? Arena?), the legs of the furniture securely bolted to the floor.

The one end of the table sports dull, heavy-looking metal shackles, and Loki can gimps ancient runes on them – whatever it was they would do, they would continue to bind his magick; the other end seems to be expanded by two metal braces that end in stirrups raised in an angle parallel to the floor.  
Something like sick curiosity washes through Loki, as he has never seen anything like this instrument before.  
Whatever Odin had decided, he sure had been creative. 

An elder midwife steps forward, eyes wandering up and down Loki’s slender frame that is still sporting the dirty leather outfit he had worn in Midgard. 

“Remove your clothes, Prince Loki.” 

_Prince_  
So he has not completely fallen into disgrace.   
Interesting.   
But of course, he will not make it easy for them, where would be the fun in that?  
Also, he is not an exhibitionist at heart, not like Thor who will walk around half naked at any opportunity he can get. 

Loki was not ashamed of his body, but he knew what a stark contrast he makes when compared to his tall, blond brother Thor. He was literally the black sheep of the family with his lean, pale frame and raven-black hair, and he knew that most people in Asgard, who worship the sun, think of him as ugly. 

The trickster eyes his guards and smiles. “No.”

The reaction must have been expected as another guard steps up to him immediately, holding a small, silver knife and slides it under the heavy leather of Loki’s coat.   
The material parts with barely a whisper as the sharp metal is pulled downwards in one swift, smooth motion.   
Loki stands tall and proud, eyes focusing on the wall opposite of him as layer after layer is removed from him, falling on in puddles around his feet on the floor. 

 

In the corner of his eye e can see several people craning their necks to get a better look, some maybe checking the size of the shy prince, others probably hoping that he will cower in shame or try to cover himself.   
But he is Loki and he will have none of that, ignoring the hushed whispers, not covering his nakedness.  
He grins to himself.   
Many had seen him before like this anyway.   
Also, there was nothing he needed to be ashamed of. 

Once fully stripped, he is taken roughly by the elbow and led to the reflecting table where he is forced to lie down on his back against the cold metal surface. 

He struggles briefly, knowing it is to no avail, but the audience is expecting a show.   
And who would Loki be if he did not give them at least a little of what they expect. 

His hands are quickly secured over his head, then bound by the heavy, _cold_ metal shackles above him before the other manacles that bound his magic are removed.   
He can feel strange new heat wash through his arms where the metal touches his flesh as his feet are pulled into the stirrups, soft leather bindings securing his feet while his ankles are clamped down by similar cold metal restraints. 

The trickster tries to relax, scanning the crowded room once more for a hint of what is to come next.   
All the sudden he can hear gasps from the balcony and sees a shuffle from the healers around him, as they lean forward, staring at him with big eyes.  
The magic continues to flush him in heat as it wanders along his body, and Loki raises his head to look down at his feet. 

He stills.  
No…no……NO

Where the shackles touch his skin, the light blue and grey of his Jötunn ancestry is crawling up his legs, raising heritage lines where none had been before, now reaching his knees at it continues upward, slowly, unstoppable.   
With a quick glance he confirms that the same is happening to his arms. 

He sees people talking loudly, pointing, craning their necks trying to catch a glimpse, staring at their bound prince who is turning into a monster in front of their eyes.   
Then Loki realizes that part of his punishment will be revealing his true self to the people of Asgard, to be openly humiliated, to be subjected to their stares and ridicule and open HATE he is stunned for a moment at the pure maliciousness of this type of torture. 

_The monster that mothers tell their children at night…._

Jötunn.  
Hated by the whole of Agard.


	3. Chapter 3

Loki jerks at his chains, but nothing can stop the slow invasion of his body, changing him for all to see.   
He can feel his birth lines rising on his body, his organs shifting inside of him, green eyes slowly filling with blood as he twists and turns to escape his binds, losing control of his careful cultivated composure, hissing at the crowd.   
His senses change, the light around him taking on a red tinge, his heart rate slowing and body temperature dropping, making his surrounding uncomfortably warm, almost hot.   
His hearing seems less sharp, a steady crackling noise like ice invading his senses. 

While the trickster is spitting in fury, trying unsuccessfully to stop the change, the wise men and women step closer, mumbling and whispering to each other, some taking notes in small leather-bound booklets, some running fingers over the raised lines on Loki’s flesh.

“He is cold” an elderly man states, running a hand along Loki’s thigh.

Loki raises his head, his red eyes sparking.

“Of course I am cold, I am a FROSTGIANT you half-witted idiot!” he spurts, grinding his teeth.

Loki’s words echo through the hall, are picked up and spread like fire through the spectators, especially among the viewers on the balcony.   
To see the prince change was one thing.   
To hear him admit it, say it out loud…well, it meant that it was not a trick or magic by the healers that turned him into the writhing blue mass on the metal table below them. 

 

The healers and wise men on the other hand knew about the change that would happen to the trickster, ignoring his feeble outburst as they start to discuss theories and ideas, more fingers digging into the bound Jötunn’s flesh, kneading and poking, testing the consistency and elasticity of the blue skin beneath their fingers.   
Loki hopes for a second that their skin will burn, that they will draw back screaming, but nothing happens. His inklings he may only be part Jötunn deepen. 

When the transformation is complete Loki lays shivering from anger, the stares on his body and the transformation he fought every step of the way.   
This is something he knows he will not be able to forgive or forget.   
Not ever.

As his mind races the large crowd suddenly goes silent, lowering themselves to their knees, their hands on their hearts, staring at the door that has opened at the end of the large room.   
Odin Allfather, fully clad in his armor, tall and powerful enters the room.

Loki’s mouth sets in a tight line, his body rigid, eyes locking on his adoptive father.   
Odin had always had a knack for grand entrances, and this one was no exception.   
First change your son in front of everyone into a monster, then come and try to explain it.  
Great plan. 

The Allfather ignores everyone but his youngest, blue eyes meeting red ones filled with despise and anger.

For a moment Loki believes that Odin will come close enough to lay a soothing hand on him, but he is mistaken. Odin stops a couple of steps away from the bound trickster, scanning the Jötunn body that is tied to table.

His voice booms when he addresses the trickster bound before him, hand gripping Gungnir tightly enough to whiten his knuckles. 

“Loki, Son of Laufey, born to the Frost Giants. “

A murmur again floods the room as the Allfather confirms what everyone had just seen.   
This would offer enough gossip for years to come. 

Odin waits for the room to be silent once more before he continues: “I brought you to Asgard many winters ago as a mere babe after our war with Jötunheimr.  
You had been abandoned, a victim of war, and you were raised as the son of Odin.”

Loki sneers at this, knowing he had always been second best, ALWAYS, but the Allfather ignores him.

“You have almost succeeded in destroying two realms, fighting against everything that is held dear by Asgard.   
You fought your own brother.  
You joined the forces of our enemies and tried to enslave a whole people.   
You are a danger to others as well as yourself.“

Loki growls, waiting for his sentence, body tight in anticipation.

“There have been long discussions, and many have asked for your head. But, we found that there may be another option for you, Loki.  
You are of Jötunn descend, raised in a world so different of your own.   
Even though you do carry a lot of blame, some …things may have been preventable had you been treated differently according to your heritage.   
At least that is the belief our healers. ” 

Loki stares at Odin in confusion.   
What in the nine realms was the old fool talking about?

Odin takes another deep breath.   
“As some of us know, Jötunn are of two sexes. They are able to be male and female, maid and warrior at the same time. “ 

Someone giggles on the balcony, but is stopped by a fierce glance by the Allfather.

“It is believed that your actions may be caused by the suppression of your female self as we raised you as our son…causing hysteria and therefore your tendencies to mischief and worse.”

There are more, hardly suppressed giggles from the balcony.  
Loki stares, his eyes wide, incomprehensive.   
Wait, what?

“Therefore, you may have been under some...mental strains none of us were aware of.”  
It is obvious that Odin is not comfortable about the subject, his words getting faster and more hurried, a trait not normally known to the Allfather:  
“Our healers and scholars will attempt to heal you from your ailments by…releasing your female….frustrations.”

Now there is definite loud laughter, but this time Odin does not address it.   
He stares at his blue son, twitching his Gungnir in his fingers.  
“We will re-assess your progress after one year and then decide if and what punishment is fit for you.”

There is a moment of silence underlined with suppressed chuckles, all eyes on Loki.

Loki makes a small strangled noise. He is flushed, feels like he is burning.  
It finally hits home what the Allfather just said; they blame his actions on madness caused by who he is; a Jötunn; partially female, a monster, a freak.  
But still without an idea what his punishment was to be. 

The trickster stares at Odin a moment longer, trying to think of something to say, something to answer to this…ridiculous blabber he just heard, it cannot be, no, no…., but there is nothing.   
His mind is foggy and works slow, and finally he does the one thing that seems right to him: he throws his head back and starts to laugh.   
Loud and long, a dry hard sound coming from his Jötunn throat, his whole body shaking in spasms, tears running from his eyes. 

The Allfather takes a step back; eyes narrowing.   
The balcony is silenced by the harsh sound, so foreign in Asgard’s light halls.

Loki laughs and laughs until he can no more, and with some exhausted snickers he focuses once more on Odin, baring his teeth in a snarl, jerking at his chains.

His voice is foreign to his own ears as he answers:  
“Hysteria? Really?   
You blame my actions on my heritage that you have kept from me and everyone else, blaming it on a mental illness that no one knew about?   
You say that you have loved me as your own, while you clearly always favored Thor, your first-born?  
You made me roam the halls, wondering why I am different, why I never fit in! Never explaining who I was?  
I always tried to please you, always tried to achieving something you could be proud of, but I was never good enough for you, WAS I?”  
Loki’s eyes glitter with suppressed rage, his hands fisting above his head in his inability to move. 

“A spoil of war is what I am, what I always was to you!  
And now, Allfather? What have you thought of to further shame me?  
You will not punish me for the crimes I committed, but instead publicly treat me as a maiden, humiliating me in front of the court! And then what? Will you send me back to my room, to try to “fit in” once more?  
I am a MAN, the son of Frostgiants, a mighty race of warriors, but instead of allowing me to pay for my crimes the way any man in all the realms should, you are going to treat me as a WOMAN, SHAMING ME!”  
Loki’s voice sounds unfamiliar in his own ears as it raises, a crumbling sound deep from his chest, like breaking glass.   
He can see that Odin is fighting not to flinch under his words, as he stands tall, sad eyes on his son. 

“If you cannot punish me the way that is written, let others make the decision you cannot.   
Send me to Jötunheimr or Midgard. Send me to Thanos who surely would know what to do with a traitor.   
Or execute me.   
Do not treat me the way you would not treat your worst enemy!  
I am Loki Laufeyson, a Frost giant, the god of mischief and lies, and there is nothing you can do to “heal” me from what I am.”

Loki spits out towards Odin, anger radiating in deadly cold waves from his body. 

There is Silence.

Finally the Allfather steps forward, shaking his head sadly.   
“No Loki. You have always been my son, always precious, always loved.   
The decision has been made. They will try to heal you, and if there is no change to your state, you will have to face your punishment. As man or woman, Frost Giant or Asgardian.   
It shall be done!” 

Odin’s staff hits the floor once, sound echoing through the hall and he turns around to leave the trickster, who is screaming, cursing his name.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Please note that as of this chapter there will be explict masturbation.....
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Loki leans back on the slab as all eyes return to him.

Hysteria? Really? 

He giggles in his disbelief, searching his mind what he knew about female hysteria.   
He never really cared about the subject, but he remembers dimly coming across some form of treatment in some of the older magic books. 

For the life of him he cannot remember how this treatment was performed. 

Judging from all the medical staff in the room it would be something…no, he just did not know.   
He curses his memory.

 

An elderly lady that Loki recognizes from healing rooms approaches him, her eyes flicking over the Jötunn body. She makes small soothing noises as she puts her gloved hand on one of his shoulders, the way one would treat a startled horse, infuriating Loki even more.   
He growls at her, like the animal she seems to be looking at, struggling in his bonds, straining away from the burning gloved hand on his cold flesh.

She leans closer and speaks: “Lord Loki, I will explain to you what your treatment entails, but it would help if you could calm yourself.”  
The gloves she is wearing must be specially prepared as the touch does not burn through her fingers.   
Or maybe Loki’s form cannot burn Asgardian’s, he does not know.  
He knows NOTHING about the form he is in.   
It’s not something Odin would have discussed at the dinner table.   
Or at all for that matter. 

“Calm myself? CALM MYSELF?” One more he growls, eyes spraying hatred at the frail woman standing above him.   
“I am bound naked like an animal, to be treated with experimental methods I have not given consent to! I AM NOT GOING TO CALM MYSELF…I…”  
As Loki hisses and spits, the elder healer gives a small wave to one of the guards behind her.   
The large man steps forward, a familiar muzzle in his hands. 

Loki screams - a loud and animalistic sound from the bottom of his throat.   
He shakes his head from side to side, clamping his mouth shut, but a hard hand quickly digs into his cheeks, forcing his teeth apart.   
The contraption is pushed into his mouth while his head is kept steady, the clamp holding his tongue in place, pushing it down. The second guard fastens the muzzle at the side of his head with a sharp click. 

“There, there-” soothes the old lady, irritatingly stroking the tricksters arm as the guards work on him. When they are done she moves closer, pushing some of the sweaty strands from his forehead, easing them to the back of his head.   
“I am sorry about the gag, Prince Loki, but I need to make sure you understand what your treatment entails.   
My name is Eir, I am a healer.   
As the Allfather mentioned, we shall try to treat your condition with something that is called hysterical paroxysm – to be blunt, we will masturbate your female form until orgasm to release toxins in your womb. “ 

The room is still once more. 

Loki first does not understand, and then horror washes over his spine, making him hotter than he already is in this cold Jötunn form.   
This was NOT….POSSIBLE…. Loki’s eyes widen in terror, and he goes still for a moment. 

The contraption holding his legs held parallel to the floor and spread apart suddenly makes horrible sense to Loki. It will allow easy access to the trickster’s genitals, which in his Jötunn form are both male and female. 

Loki shakes his head ‘no’.

Again the crooning sound.   
The trickster wishes he could kill the old lady, or at least silence her by ripping out her tongue.   
Burning her flesh with his ice.   
Anything to make her shut up and take her hand from his forehead.

“Loki, you will need to relax and be still for us to do this work, or we will have to subdue you. “

Again, Loki shakes his head “no”. 

There is no way that he will lay back, relax and let this woman or anyone else for that matter touch the privates he was not even AWARE he had and let them masturbate him to orgasm in front of hundreds of people.   
An angry tear slips from his eye, turning to ice on his cheek, hitting the metal table with a soft clack. 

“Well, ok then. We will try it without first. You are a very smart man Loki, no matter what you do there is no way around this. You may as well be mentally present during the treatment. It may be helpful for you in the future….to know your own body. ”

She finally lifts her hand, leaving a burning patch where it had lain on his cold skin.   
Eir steps back, nodding to the healers around her and walks around the table, stepping into the groove between Loki’s legs. 

If he could, he would burn in shame.   
It has been a while that a woman – or man for that matter – has been so close to his naked cock, and this was not how he had hoped it to happen again.   
He tries to calm himself, shutting out the light laughter and chatter in the background. 

A soft leather strap is flung over his stomach, securing his hips in place.   
Loki closes his eyes. 

_This cannot be happening. It has to be a nightmare._  
Loki wills himself to wake.  
But it is futile, as he knew it would be.   
This is the nightmare that is his life.  
Odin.   
Asgard.   
Everything. 

Once he is tightly secured, Eir puts her hand on inner Loki’s thigh, uncomfortably warm.   
Loki opens his eyes.  
He cannot rely on his senses alone, as they come in shocks through this unknown form, and he needs to know….know what they are doing to him.   
He sees Eir stare between Loki’s legs where he assumes she will see both sets of genitalia, male and female.  
He groans into his gag. 

Another healer close behind Eir passes her a small bottle of oil, which she takes and slowly spreads over the gloved fingers of her right hand.

The healer studies the wide red eyes of the son of Odin before him, then she carefully places her hand on the hairless opening under Loki’s flaccid member, feeling the god tensing beneath her fingers.   
She slowly strokes along the dry opening, using the oil to spread the folds that are very similar in form and shape as those of any Asgardian maiden. 

Loki lets out a small chocked sob behind his gag, his hands clenching into fists.   
There is nothing enjoyable or erotic about the touch of the gloved hand, his body fastened, being fully aware of hundreds of eyes staring at him, grinning faces enjoying the hated liesmith’s humiliation.

The finger run along the outside of Loki’s blue vulva, icy cold, slowly spreading the petals that cover the entrance to the slit beneath them as well as well as the little knob of pleasure Eir knows to be there.  
She traces her fingers slowly up between the folds, not pressing too hard when she feels the small hard clitoris, hidden just beneath the root of his penis. 

Slowly and carefully, always keeping an eye on the reaction of the trickster who stares at her with unmasked hate, she starts to push slightly and circles the knob.   
Loki tenses at the unknown sensation, curling his toes, another strangled groan behind the muzzle.   
There is silence in the long minutes that the healer is working his oil-slick fingers in slow circular motions on the resisting body below her.   
Even as she applies more pressure and increases the speed, Loki does not react anymore, his whole body tense and stiff, his cock swelling slightly. 

Eir read that with Jötunn both sexual organs show signs of arousal, and she knows that similar to Aesir, the male parts are easier and faster to orgasm.   
Even though Loki’s male parts now start to show appreciation to her touch, his female parts stay dry and fail to react in a positive way to the stroking motions.  
While continuing to stroke and circle the clitoris, the healer leans forward and pushes one finger into the soft opening, her oil-slick finger entering easily.  
Loki now closes his eyes and put his head down, dark blue veins standing out on his neck.  
There is no enjoyment in his reaction, and when the healer’s finger hit a wall, she realizes that the prince has never had any kind of interaction with a man or other supplements in this form. She notices the slight shiver that is running along Loki’s skin, his brow furrowed, as he clenches around her.   
She pulls her finger back, straightens and shakes her head.

“Please bring the potion that Argyr prepared for this event and administer it. It seems the prince is “untouched” and it will make him more compliant and recipient to this treatment, as he is currently rejecting it.”

Loki can hear the buzz flying over the room, spreading to the balcony.  
Loki is a virgin. 

If he could, he would kill each and everyone in this room at this moment, starting with Eir.   
Just to make them shut up.


	5. The deed is done

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Drug-use, explicit masturbation. 
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A young woman steps forward, holding a vial with a clear liquid inside it. 

She passes it to an old, grey-bearded healer, who inspects it carefully before pulling its content into a large glass syringe sporting a thick needle.  
Loki increases his muted cursing and struggling, but by now his restraints have been tightened once more and it keeps him in place.   
It just tires him to fight against his bonds. 

The man steps forward, running his gloved hand along Loki’s hip towards the stomach searching for one of the large pumping arteries running close to the surface in his groin area.   
When he found it he places his finger onto the pulse, and Loki can feel his slow heartbeat under the man’s touch.   
He tries to shake off the hand, but once again his struggling achieves nothing. 

A guard holds down his hips for safe measure on the other side, and with one sharp biting pain the needle is pushed into Loki’s flesh. He hisses and then can feel heat cursing through his body as the plunger is pushed down, slowly. 

It feels too hot, too warm in his cold blood, but then Loki can literally _feel_ the drug hitting his brain, and with a start his fisted hands open as Loki sinks into the drug-induced calmness that surrounds him. 

Oooooohhhhhhh.

His head lolls slightly to the side as he sees all the healers scramble closer, taking a look as the trickster comes apart with the potion circulating in his alien body.  
Loki had not realized how tense he had been as his muscles slowly sink into the table, shutting out the chattering crowd above him, his whole body relaxing into the new feeling of contempt.

He sees Eir within his field of vision and with a small motion of her fingertips the guard opens the buckle of the gag that closed the trickster’s mouth.   
When the gag is lifted Loki gives a big smile, feeling the air shifting on his face, his body now receptive to even the smallest breath in his direction, his flesh sensitive as he has not known it before.

Eir leans over Loki, looking into his eyes, the dark pupils blown wide as he continues to smile, feeling unable to form words with his mouth.   
Then again, it does not really matter.  
He is so happy.

“Do you feel well Lord Loki?” Eir whispers.

Loki sets to answer but finds himself distracted by one of his hands twitching, looking over to see his fingers sparkle with energy, painting glittering symbols into the warm air, reminding him of his magic, but again so different.

It reminds him of a cat and its whiskers.   
Loki meows.  
He IS a cat.   
Everything is so good.

The healer nods and steps back. She can continue. 

Loki is now humming, submerging his whole being into warm happiness.   
He forgot why he is here and what is happening around him, as he continues watching his fingers and _listening_ to how the air moves on his sensitive body.

 

Then a touch strikes Loki like lightening.   
The trickster’s eyes fly open.

Ohhhh…..

Loki whole being concentrates between his legs, where he feels the leather clad finger, barely touching his thigh.  
It moves closer towards his genitals, making contact with his sensitive flesh, warm, almost burning him, and sending signals all over his hypersensitive body. 

Then, slowly, carefully, always watching the god beneath her, Eir once more let’s her finger glide over the petals of Loki’s female opening, parting them to touch the small knot at the tip. 

She hesitates as he groans; allowing the prince to get used to the overwhelming sensation of the contact, now just the hint of a touch, combining his whole universe in one small, throbbing point.   
He relaxes into it; focusing on the slight pressure, the touch, the sensation of “want” and “need” that courses through his body.   
Loki starts to breathe faster, straining against his bonds. 

And then finger slowly begins to move, caressing the centre of his being in small, careful circles with little pressure.  
Loki throws his head back and groans.   
He never ….knew there could be this kind of….sensation. 

The finger, slick with oil, move slow and deliberate on his clit, in little circles that send waves of longing into Loki’s stomach and deep between his legs, heat curling under his skin, and once Loki lets out a small moan the finger pick up the speed, applying a little more force on the heated skin. 

The trickster’s member fills with blood and stretches as the fingers move, a warm hand now on his stomach anchoring him to the table, while the circular motions spread a warm feeling down between his legs, into his inside, filling a small, hot place within him with…

_Lust and Passion and SEX._

“Oh gods, yes, please….” Loki whispers, trying to arch his back into the finger, urging it to keep going, to go faster, to help him curl into the sensation that is mounting inside him.

He can feel his cock pulsating, starting to strain while leaking sticky beads of pre-come onto his naked belly, and soon he comes with a warm burst onto his stomach, pulsating the lust, taking his breath away.   
The finger stops for a moment as Eir gives a whispered command, Loki making a mewling sound, _please don’t stop, don’t stop, this feels so good, please keep going…_  
Someone wipes away the cum, and a silky piece of fabric is carefully tied around the base of his cock that is filling again, almost painfully prohibiting his pleasure to fully rise there. 

That is fine with Loki though; there is so much lust in the new place.  
And it is so deliciously…different. 

The finger now moves faster and faster, and Loki squirms, as an immense hunger builds up inside of him, the tension in need to be released, but he can’t let it…..   
His eyes fly open, and he mumbles, “please need to go to the bathroom” as the need to urinate all of the sudden is far beyond him, snapping him out of this place of pleasure, images of soiling himself in his mind, when a soft hand strokes his forehead and a male voice whispers into his ears: “Don’t worry about it prince, just let it go.   
Close your eyes.   
You are all alone.   
Let everything that needs to get out escape.   
Cleanse yourself.”

Loki smiles at the voice and closes his eyes as he is told, listening as it continues to murmur that he is by himself and that it is fine to let go and he relaxes once more.  
As the need to urinate washes over him again, the pressure and lust peaking, the fast moving finger, the hot throbbing of his clit, he worries no more and allows himself…. Allows _himself_  
TO  
LET  
GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Something is released inside of him, from the new place, flooding out of him, expelling everything, gushing out between his legs, but he does not worry, he is all alone and it makes him feel so satisfied and happy and oh …..soooo………..good!  
He shakes for a moment as the circular motions slow down on his clit, but they do not stop.

Instead, there are now more fingers, sliding over the new wetness between his folds, teasingly, up and down, never entering but exploring, testing if Loki is ready for this.

Oh yes, please, he is so ready. 

Again he tries to lift his hips that are bound to the table, to urge the fingers on to fill him, to take him, to make him SCREAM. He grinds his teeth as they keep stroking him, not entering, the circles on his clit once again pressing a little harder and going a little faster.

And he comes again, in a burst of liquid, flowing warm over the fingers.

The teasing continues, warm wet leather gliding along his opening, as if lost, wandering up and down, separating his dark blue petals revealing his virgin hole beneath it.

Then one finger pushes into him, slowly, lubricated with oil and welcomed by the warm, wet opening. 

The trickster moans to the new sensation of being filled in an entirely new way that touches the throbbing heat between his legs and he tries to buck up, to impale himself further on the welcome intrusion.

It pushes in until it hits a wall, tight inside him, Loki whimpers, please FUCK ME, and he feels a sharp pain, his eyes fly open, then there is a soothing voice and the hand stroking him, and then the digit moves slowly inside of him once more.   
He feels the burn, the slight pain mixed with so much pleasure, it feels good, so full, one finger not too much to take and the clitoral stimulation takes him once more over the edge and he pushes the finger out of him while coming once more, wetness bursting from his womb.

The finger enters again, a second one joining it, both stroking the inside of his wall, curling upwards towards his stomach as they push rhythmically, finding a magical spot that pulls the whole universe into it, massaging in circles as well, heating Loki up inside of him, as the heat starts to spread to his feet and Loki tries to open his legs further, allowing the hand better access, held back by the restraints. 

Where the touch to the clitoris was satisfying this touch opened a whole other dimension of pleasure.

He bucks, opens his eyes and raises his head, staring at the person between his legs.  
“Fuck me” he hisses, speaking to the fingers inside him. 

They listen. 

They plunge into him with full force, slightly curved at the tip to massage that pulsating spot inside of the mewling god, a steady rhythm of partially pulling back and hitting the pleasure centre again and again. There is another hand on his stomach, this time used for leverage to be able to use the force and angle that Loki needs, as there is no more restraint or worry to be too rough on the bound trickster.   
His clit is still being worked on, a new, warmer hand, but it does not matter, it moves faster and faster, and Loki comes again, pushing the fingers out in another warm gush of liquid. 

 

He groans at the loss of sensation, screams when they enter him again, now rough in a delicious and much wanted way, his now released hips rising to meet them, rocking his own body against them, directing the speed and depth, hitting his female lust over and over.

Loki strains against his bonds to impale himself faster and faster on the fingers, he can feel the pleasure inside him rippling, curling in his stomach, concentrating in his belly, then spreading to his hands and feet before it explodes, rushing through his veins all over his body, his body jerking, a loud cry escaping his lips.

The fingers keep pushing and turning, keeping the trickster on the wave of the glorious G-spot orgasm, allowing him to ride it , screaming as he comes, he jerks and struggles, the sensation of heat, of contained female lust, of everything he ever was rolling over him, devouring him, chewing him up until he can no more. 

 

Then it is over. 

Loki stops moving.

The fingers move once more over his too sensitive flesh, trying to arouse yet again, but when he gives a small, pained whimper they retreat.   
Loki is sated and spent, and even though the void within him now leaves him empty and burning, the small hot spot inside him still pulsates softly, holding the promise for more.   
But not now. 

At this point trickster is so tired that he cannot keep his eyes open, and he wishes he could curl up somewhere, anywhere, and dream of the new exciting adventure he has just been on.   
He falls into a satisfied slumber as he is, bound to the cold metal that is now covered in slick cold sweat and ejaculates, fully spent and very satisfied.

With a sign from Eir Loki’s chains are removed while the magic bands around his hands stay in place to keep him in the form of a frost giant.   
Strong arms take the slumbering trickster and leave to take him for his well deserves rest.


End file.
